


Soon we'll be found again

by HawthornBlood141



Series: Seventh Year [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-22 13:09:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6080571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawthornBlood141/pseuds/HawthornBlood141
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The summer after collecting her parents in Australia, Hermione navigates through the struggles of her new relationship with Ron, readjusting to life after war and trying to mend her relationship with her parents before heading back to Hogwarts for her 7th year. MsBinns's Australia-verse. Hermione's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. June

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hellooooo. So apparently this is sort of happening. I haven't written an actual proper Romione fic in ages (those 100 drabbles don't really count). I'll make this short. This is tightly but not necessarily (your choice) linked to MsBinns's Reunited story (I highly recommend to read it) that is itself the follow up of her Australia fic (omg if you haven't read it what are you still doing here? GO READ IT NOW). So basically, this is set in Australia-verse, post Australia, MsBinns kindly allowed me to play the Hermione of her universe. Merci ;) Hermione and Ron went to get her parents back from Australia, this is what my brain decided to imagine the follow up of that. There should be three chapters to this story. One per summer months.

_June_

They fly back to England from Perth. It's an agonizingly long journey that involves several long flights and layovers. Ironically, their last layover before flying to London is in New Delhi. She remembers their too short journey through India as they land before their connection. She throws Ron a glance, he is clutching his fists as he attempts to breathe calmly. She grabs his hand and acknowledges how far they've come since that day.

Somehow the airline messes up and they only have three seats together on their last flight. The fourth one is at the far end of the plane. Alone.

Ron volunteers to take the isolated seat.

She pictures him, sitting by himself, trying to breathe his way through take off and landing and she falls in love with him all over again.

 _I love you_ , she hears herself whisper to him as she hugs him.

He holds her tighter.

...

"Don't be too long," her mum tells her. And Hermione refuses to believe she is seeing tears in her mother's eyes. She chooses to ignore the truth.

Truth is that Apparating for a few minutes to say goodbye to Ron as he goes back to his childhood home without her, without  _them_ , causes her parents pain.

Regaining their trust is going to take a lot of time.

"I won't," she replies with a heavy heart, "may take more than a few minutes though."

Her dad nods as she grabs Ron's hand and leads him outside the door. They're going to Disapparate at the end of the street. Her parents are still too uncomfortable with magic. She vaguely hears Ron bidding her parents goodbye through the buzzing in her ears.

They reach their destination faster than she expects.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his hand against her cheek.

"I'm fine." He doesn't believe her. "I'll be fine.  _We_ 'll be fine."

"You and I or you and your parents?"

"Both."

She doesn't want to be one of those sappy girls that cry as they say goodbye to their boyfriend, not knowing when they'll see them again. She fights back the tears, she's gotten good at it. "My parents… These things take time, I lied to them. A lot."

"You had to. To protect them."

"Yes, and I think my mum is beginning to understand that. My dad may take longer…"

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." She looks at him questionably. "I mean, we did just win a war. And they would have been dead if not for you. Just keep reminding them that, eventually they'll both come around." She shivers, shaking away the thought of how much danger her parents were in because they were Muggles with a magical daughter.

She hugs him, tight. Knowing full well that as soon as they'll Apparate at the Burrow, any privacy they have now will be thrown out the window.

"Are you nervous?" she asks against his heart.

"A little." And she knows he means more than just seeing his family again. Going back to the Burrow also means fighting back demons.

They both discovered a lot about themselves through their journey to Australia.

It seems that he's finally ready to go home.

_Is she ?_

…

That first night in her childhood bed, surrounded by reliques of her younger self, she feels both at home and misplaced. It's an uneasy feeling.

When sleep finally takes her, it doesn't last.

She wakes up drenched in sweat and her throat dry. Her mother barges in, horror on her face.

Hermione didn't realise she was screaming.

"I- I'm fine," she clenches her fists underneath her blanket, hoping it will make the shaking stop.

Thankfully it's too dark for her mother to see. She mentally flinches, she should have remembered to cast a silencing charm.

"You can go back to bed," she takes a deep calming breath, "I guess it's a little weird to be back here." She tries to joke, but her mother doesn't take the bait.

Hermione is about to apologise for waking her up, when her mother, tears in her eyes, walks up to her and hugs her. She smells the remnant of her mother's perfume in the crook of her neck, the same perfume she's always worn as far as Hermione can remember, and something that is just distinctly  _her_. Hermione suddenly feels so small, wanting nothing more but melt into her mother's embrace. She longs for a time when her mother's embrace was enough to cure all her sorrows. She lets the tears fall, allowing herself to mourn her childhood long gone.

After a while, when her heart has stopped racing and both their tears have dried, her mother tells her to lie back down. She expects her mother to go back to bed, instead the older woman runs her hands through Hermione's hair. It's all too familiar and she gets overwhelmed once again. She blocks the tears and instead tells her mother she loves her.

"Love you too baby," her mother whispers back.

Hermione falls back asleep, lulled by the soft caresses of her mother hand and enveloped in her perfume.

...

She's  _home._

It takes her a fews days to  _actually_ realise it.

In every nook and cranny she looks is a childhood memory and it makes her heart feel both lighter and heavier. It's a paradox she has trouble to comprehend. She knows she took the right decision by sending her parents to Australia. Her  _methods_  now, she probably could have done better. But she didn't had much time to plan and that's the best thing she could come up with back then. She would have done anything to protect her parents. So she did.

Still she apologises. Endlessly. Relentlessly. So much that her parents now roll eyes every time she utters the word 'sorry'.

Sometimes, it feels like they look at her like she's a stranger. They don't always make a good job covering it up.

She accepts their accusations and their anger. Repent in it even. And as she does, she helps them rebuild their lives, and hers.

...

A few days after settling back home, she receives a letter from Ron.

Pig falls in their backyard, completely exhausted.

She begins to write back almost instantly, even though she is unsure of when she will be actually able to send it back. Apparating at the Burrow would be faster she knows it, but it is hard to let her parents out of her sight for too long now that she has them back. Or maybe it's the other way around... Maybe she can go to the Burrow this week. She'll have to talk to her parents about it. In the meantime she writes, one letter every day. She figures she'll send them all at once when Pig will have recovered.

She keeps her reply as light as possible. They both know she isn't sleeping well, he probably isn't either. She details all the logistics involved in setting back the house. How they had to reinstall the electricity and telephone lines. They still aren't done unpacking what they brought back from Australia. They have to go shop for new furnitures. Her parents aren't exactly thrilled about it, many of the furnitures they had before had some sort of sentimental value. The couch they bought when she turned one, the coffee table that they've had since their first apartment, the carpet she took her first step on… She's trying to make her parents see the bright side. They get a fresh start. She's not sure who she's trying to convince more.

There is a lot she  _doesn't_ write, she imagines Ron will be able to read between the lines though. How she struggles to hold a full conversation with her parents. How she avoids talking about magic altogether. How they don't ask about it either. How she has to repress a whole part of her in attempts to repair the damages she's done. How the guilt is eating her up, now even more so.

…

She's surprised at how long they wait until questioning her more about Ron.

They ask after a week, when Hermes arrives at the breakfast table with another letter from him. He's out of owls, she briefly thinks. Pig and Erroll are both still resting after their journey and she hasn't been able to send any of her letters back yet.

She smiles despite her parents scolding. Ron writes her letters.

She drinks his words, reads them over and over. She misses him more than she expected to. After all they've been apart before, for longer than seven little days. But this is different.  _They_  are different.

She excuses herself, already mentally beginning to write back, adding to the letter she started after Pig first arrived.

But before she leaves the room, her father clears his throat.

"How long have you two been together again?"

She stops in her tracks and turns around slowly, twirling her father's words in her head. She's trying to make sense of his tone, stuck between cold anger and deception. She remembers telling them a little about Ron and her, when they were still in Australia.

"Excuse me?"

"How long have you and Ron been a couple? Is it really since the infamous battle like you told us, or are you lying about that too?" To his credit, her father does look like he regrets the words that just escaped his mouth.

It's the 'too' that hurts her the most. And after a week of sleeping alone again, casting silencing charms around her bedroom, knowing full well her parents would disapprove the use of magic but unable to do otherwise. She doesn't want her nightmares to wake them up.

She knows that soon they'll wonder what is under the bandage on her arm. She's not sure she'll ever be ready to tell them.

She puts Ron's letter away and sits back with her parents. She realises they are as frustrated as her, wanting nothing more to go back to their relationship  _before_  but unable to do so. So she starts to talk a little, tells them that yes Ron and her only got together at the battle but that it had been a long time coming. She watches her dad's features soften as she talks. Then, because she's missed them too much, and even though she's heard the story a thousand time, she asks about how they met. Her father looks at her, seemingly pondering if he'll grab the olive branch she's trying to lay, and then he talks about her mother and him, throwing her a smile that reaches all the way to his eyes.

It's the first time she's felt like their connection could be mended again one day.

…

She tells her parents she's going to the Burrow on Sunday to visit Ron and his family. The distance has become unbearable, she could almost begin to forget the sound of his voice and the warmth of his touch. They don't comment much on it and she doesn't know if she should be happy that they're not accusing her of spending time with Ron and his family or sad that they don't seem to be interested to know about it. She ruminates the thoughts in her head for the next two days.

Every Weasley is there to welcome her when she arrives and she immediately feels lighter. They spend the afternoon chatting around tea, Ron's hand tucked in hers. Fortunately, they gave almost half an hour to themselves and she makes sure to remember every minute of it.

…

Four days later, her parents leave her alone one afternoon. It's the first time she is in the house by herself since they came back and she barely waits for the door to close behind her parents before she Apparates to the Burrow. She just explained Apparition to them that morning because they were complaining about traffic and rush hours and she just blurted out about wizards transportations. They didn't look very enthusiastic about it. But when they make their way outside the door, she mentions that she may go out while they are away, just in case they are back before her. They don't ask, but she's sure they know where she'll go.

She is back before her parents. She's a little too cheerful, seeing Ron helps her stay focused on the long haul, on why they fought and did what they had to do. Her mother looks at her knowingly. They don't ask about her afternoon and she doesn't tell them. Instead she asks about their afternoon and the conversation feels tensed and forced. They ran into an old friend that questioned them about their year long disappearance.

That's when Hermione truly understands what was the biggest flaw in her plan, one she couldn't circle around with magic no matter how much she'd wanted to. And now, when the moment comes to rekindle with old friends and relatives, how do you explain that you left for almost a year without a trace?

When her parents, frustrated and agitated, complain about how to even begin to explain uprooting themselves to Australia for a year, she stays silent.

Because it's all her fault.

The thought leaves a bitter taste in her mouth.

…

As she arrives at the Burrow for dinner, Molly excitedly tells her Ron got a letter from Kingsley about joining the Aurors.

She's excited for him, and  _so proud_. He's dreamed about being an Auror for the better part of their years at Hogwarts. He doesn't seem too enthusiastic about it though, but she does her best to show her support.

Their lives are slowly falling back into place.

...

It's like they moved one step forward and three steps back. She's running out of apologies, they are tired of hearing them. What is done is done and mending broken trust is harder than she expected.

One morning, she's reading an article about a new art exhibit and an idea emerges.

"Let's go to the British museum," she's looks at her dad, remembering the day she got lost and ended up opening the doors of the library. Her father nods and it's all it takes. Soon they are standing outside the imposing building, she grabs her father's hand, squeezing it lightly. He squeezes back before engulfing her in a hug she didn't know she yearned for.

They eat an ice cream on their favourite bench in Coven Garden afterwards, regaling her mother with tales from a more carefree past.

…

She begins to slowly slip out stories from her life on the run. It starts out of nothing. She's helping her mum cook a mushrooms omelet one morning and Hermione recalls weeks in a tent with nothing else much but mushrooms to eat. She tells her about living in a tent with Ron and Harry. Her father is sitting nearby, supposedly reading the paper but she can tell he turned his attention to her story.

Hermione doesn't say much, just that they had to be creative with food. She had remembered how they used to go camping when she was younger and how dad had taught her how to find edible food.

"One day we found this great stash of mushrooms. I cooked them directly over the coal to grill them and served them with a little bit of dill. You should have seen Ron and Harry," she chuckles, "I don't think they ate anything faster than those the first time I made them. Of course, eating mushrooms at almost every meal quickly became boring so I had to find other ways to cook it."

She falls silent, the last time she made mushrooms was before Ron left...

Her dad brings her out of her dark thoughts, "Maybe we should invite Ron for dinner one of these days?"

She instantly lights up, rushing to write Ron a letter to invite him over.

…

The letter from Kingsley comes a little later than Ron's and Harry's but it carries the same message. He wants her to join the Aurors. She knows she'll refuse. She's too much needed here with her parents. She  _needs_  to be with her parents and mend their family as much as she can.

Hermione doesn't know what her future holds anymore, but she knows it's not amongst the Auror forces.

...

One evening, as they are recounting one of Hugo's adventures, she realises they've been mentioning Australia more and more lately. Letting her in on how their life really had been there for them.

Curious, she asks more questions and they reply to all of them. It's the first time they have such an open talk about how they lived when they thought she didn't exist. As she listens, scrapping for more, it dawns her that they wouldn't have been happy if she had died. Her spell had been wearing off and they were remembering their lives in bits and pieces. They had been missing something and if she hadn't made it alive, they would have been looking for her until the day they died.

Strangely, it feels good, cathartic even, to hear them acknowledging it, even though it breaks her heart. For a fleeting instant, she feels the Cruciatus under the skin and remembers she'd wished to die. She chases the memory away, focusing instead on her parents. It's  _easy_. Their conversation  _is easy_  and it fills her with hope. She knows they are still all avoiding some topics, they still have a long way to go, but for now they are talking, rebuilding what has been lost for longer than a year in Australia.

Their talk drifts to her cousin's antics, her mother jokes that she'd be a good fit for Hugo. The next day, they decide to go off on a vacation to visit their relatives. They'll struggle to explain, but she knows her parents will embrace reclaiming their lives.

She tries not to think about sleeping arrangement while they'll be at her grandparents. She'll probably will have to share the room with a couple of her cousins. She still has night terrors and nightmares, and she still hides her scars as best as she can. She'll cross that bridge when she'll come to it.

When she writes her letter to Ron that night, she makes sure to fully detail her talk with her parents and how  _normal_  everything felt.


	2. July

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me months to finally finish this chapters. Hopefully you guys will like it! It's a companion chapter to MsBinns's Reunited fic and her July chapter :-)

_July_

 

Her Granny’s house is full of life, with cousins running everywhere and her uncle desperately trying to prevent them from breaking things.

She shares a room with her 15 and 13 years old cousin and barely lets herself sleep in fear that she’ll have to explain why she wakes up screaming, shaking to her core and drenched in sweat. Thankfully, her nightmares have been more scarce, but the ones she’s had have been worse than when she’s had Ron beside her. She doesn’t want to take her chances so she stays awake as much as she can.

At dawn, she walks in the little kitchen to put the kettle on. She feels cold all over despite the summery high temperatures.. She hopes the tea will help her warm up.

Her Gran enters the room as she wraps her hands against the warm cup and stares at the clouds lighting up in the morning light.

“You’re up early!” her Gran looks surprised to see her.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Hermione shrugs.

“Something on your mind love?”

Her guilt is almost unbearable, her parents have been questioned relentlessly the previous day - so has she, - and it’s been difficult to come up with reasonable answers for them to disappear for a year without notice. So they lied. Every time her mother uttered another lie, she glanced at Hermione with a pained look.

Hermione tugs on her sleeve saying she’s fine.

“You must be hot in those long sleeves, why don’t you go put something more comfortable as I start on breakfast?”

She protectively wraps her arms around herself as she feels the scar on her arm beginning to tingle and her grandmother looks at her strangely, silently waiting for Hermione to explain further.

“It’s...it’s just that... a lot happened this year while mum and dad were away.”

“You mean while you were in school?”

“Hm, yeah I guess so, it’s hard to explain and I don’t know where to start yet and I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it. I haven’t even talked to mum and dad about it.”

Her grandmother eyes bear the weight of a war too and she looks at Hermione like she’s recognizing something in her that she hadn’t seen before. Hermione suddenly feels closer to her than she ever thought possible. The older woman understand that she isn’t ready to talk about her scars, physical and emotional, yet, so she changes the subject to Ron, whom her father mentioned over dinner the previous night. The conversation is easy and she feels herself warm up just by talking about him.

When the house begins to wake up, before their quiet bubble burst, her Gran tells her she wants to meet the boy who stole her granddaughter’s heart.

 

…

 

Ron is with the _Aurors_. She can’t wrap her mind around it. She can’t figure out how to feel. Immensely proud or deeply scared. Mostly both, going back and forth.

She spends her days reading, catching up on lectures she should have been reading during her seventh year instead of dark magic books. She settles on a well oiled routine with her parents. She wakes up before them, she can’t sleep much anyway. She wonders if she’ll ever find restful sleep without Ron’s body next to her.

Without him, there’s no one to wake her up if the trembling starts.

So she wakes up at dawn and prepares breakfast the Muggle way. She knows her parents appreciate her efforts and it gives her something to do. She’s improving her cooking skills too, not always successfully and on occasion her father will throw away their breakfast and start all over again, showing her how to do it.

She mentally notes to mess up breakfast more often, just so she can have her father simply be _a dad_. The first time it happens, Hermione can’t help herself and she throws herself into his arms when they’re done. Her throat too tight and tears in her eyes.

Her father is surprised at first, but he holds her back just as tight.

 

…

 

She meets Ron in the mornings when her parents are out and it’s breath of fresh air she craves more and more.

She doesn’t have to be careful around him and even though she is more honest with her parents now than she’s ever been, there is still a lot they don’t know.

Still, she lies.

It’s nothing big, she tells them she’s going for a walk when instead she meets Ron. She just can’t bear the look they get when she mentions using magic, like they are sad that magic teared them apart so much.

There is more truth between them, but there is also more distance. Even though they’ve been drifting apart for years now, since she started Hogwarts, since she began to lie, she longs to see them smile like they used to.

She finds herself seeking for normalcy with her parents, but she doesn’t fool herself enough to know she still has a lot of explaining to do, scars to show and fears to share.

 

…

 

There is no place where she feels more like herself than the Burrow. She can tell her parents are getting more antsy when she keeps dodging some of their questions about their year apart, or the years before when she was in school and the lies began. So she escapes to a familiar place where she doesn’t have to lie about who she is.

A lighthearted Sunday dinner at the Burrow suddenly becomes heavy when Molly accidentally sees the scar on her forearm.

Hermione has dreaded that conversation with them for months, she still hasn’t told her parents. Everyone is outside so it’s only Molly, Ron and her at first, then Arthur comes in and words flow more easily than she thought they would. They all cry, but it’s the first time the tears feel cathartic, it’s the first time she feels less heavy with guilt about all the lies she’s told.

She can’t tell her parents yet, but maybe things are finally beginning to get better for all of them.

 

…

 

Sometimes it feels like her parents and her will be able to move forwards, but most of the time, everyone is still walking on eggshells around each other.

She hates it.

She hates that she can’t make herself tell her everything, undo all the lies she told over the years, make them understand. But she’s not ready to tell them and she doesn’t think they are ready to listen.

Her parents go out a lot. Reacquainting with friends they haven’t seen in a year, there is also a lot of paperwork to set right and everything is more complicated than Hermione anticipated it would be.

They also need to reopen their dentistry practice and apparently it’s not easy. The building they previously rented has been sold and is now a music store.

They have to explain their absence to everyone.

Even though she doesn’t tell them about her morning visits with Ron, they know when she goes to have dinner with his family. Every time she announces she’s going to the Burrow, she can see the look her parents share and it makes her insides turn to stone. They think she’s choosing the Weasleys over them.

It’s harder to push the guilt away when Ron’s away on Auror missions. When he comes back and surprises her by showing up at her parents, she tells him how bad things are with her parents.

 

…

 

She does everything to be the perfect little girl she once was.

There’s an unsaid no magic rules that she has to break every night to put on silencing charm because she still doesn’t always sleep well. Every time she tries to mention magic, her parents share a look that makes her feel ten times more guilty. She usually ends up apologizing profusely once again before locking herself in her room with a book.

She has chores to do and a curfew when she asks to go out. She never lets Ron in the house when her parents are away, despite his protests and how much she wants to.

She broke their trusts so many times, she wonders if it’ll ever be possible to ever restore it.

The night she comes home well past curfew, they all sit down and talk.

They talk about her plans for the future when her father asks. “Is Ron in this future with you?” They say his name like he is a stranger, like she hasn’t grown up all these years with him and Harry by her side, like he’ll just go away once she’s done with Hogwarts. Like she’ll stop being a witch. She tells them all that, her throat tight. She still sees Ron and Harry in her future, she still sees magic.

“I can’t renounce who I am. And I know I’ve hurt you and that you don’t think magic is a good thing, but _it is._ It can be _so_ good. And Ron… He’s a part of my life now. He’s always been, ever since I’ve started Hogwarts but it’s different now, and I wish you’d accept him.”

Her parents are quiet for longer than Hermione thinks she can take and then her mum sighs and her parents speak at the same time.

“We’d like to have him for dinner again,” she says resolvely.

“We just want to make sure you are being _smart._ ” Her dad frowns, avoiding her gaze.

Her mother turns toward her father rapidly, about to scold him but Hermione replies quickly.

“We are. We - we’re safe. There’s a spell,” she blushes a little but standing a little taller, she didn’t expect this conversation to turn out the way it did.

Apparently that is not the right thing to say because both her parents turn back to her and she can see their faces blanching.

“A- a _spell?”_ her dad yelps, “but is that really efficient? I mean considering how _they_ live I don’t thi-”

“And how do you think they live exactly?” Hermione retorts heatedly.

“Hermione,” her father says patronizingly, “you’ve seen how they dress, they don’t even use electricity they use _candlesticks_! It’s like medieval times it’s ridiculous!!”

She can feel her blood boiling and it takes all her strength to stay calm.

“ _They_ are called wizards. I’ve told you, magic doesn’t mix well with electricity. It causes all kind of interferences. But it’s wonderful and I know I haven’t shown you much the better side of magic and the remarkable things it can do. I know you don’t trust magic and you probably don’t trust me either but I trust magic. It has never failed me and I am pretty darn good at it so I don’t expect this particular _spell_ to fail.”

“You have _scars_ Hermione,” her father exclaims, “we sent you to school every year and you’ve came back with lies and scars. How do you want us to trust magic when all we’ve seen from it are the scars you won’t talk about and all the things you still don’t tell us.”

She feels lightheaded, her father’s words ringing truth in her head. Her fingertips grown numb and it becomes harder to breathe. “I can’t do this,” she whispers hoarsely before fleeing to her room.

That night after her father has gone to sleep, her mother knocks on her bedroom door. There a bluebells flame on her nightstand and a potion book in her lap.

“There is still a lot you haven’t told us,” her mother speaks softly as she looks at the bluebells flame in wonder..

“I don’t think I’m ready to,” Hermione says regretfully.

“Sometimes you think you’re not ready for something,” her mother grabs her hand gently and gazes straight at her, “but then you don’t have a choice and you just have to dive in and it turns out you were ready all along but too scared of what was waiting for you on the other side.”

All Hermione can do is reach for her mother, engulfing her in a strong hug as she tries to swallow the lump in her throat.

When she can finally talk again, Hermione tells her mother that she’ll try, _soon._

 

...

 

She’s so used of lying that she finds it hard not to revert to lies to shield them.

A few days later she sits them on the couch and tells them to ask her anything they’d like to know.

“Why didn’t you come with us?” her father starts.

It’s one she’s expected them to ask, she has to begin somewhere and she may as well starts there.

“Ron and Harry needed me,” the words come out more easily than she thought and she wonders why she’s been so afraid to tell her parents.

“You love them very much.”

It’s not really a question but she answers her mother nonetheless. “I do.”

“More Ron than Harry,” her father adds inquiringly.

“Well Harry is like a brother, but Ron, Ron is-”

“Not like a brother,” her mother finishes for her.

“Definitely not,” she laughs and her parents smile kindly.

“Why did you had to send us away if you stayed?”

“Muggles weren’t safe and you specifically weren’t safe.”

“Why?”

“There was a dark wizard, his name was Voldemort, and he believed wizards from muggle born families were tainting the bloodlines of wizards. He had many followers that believed the same things and that were willing to do anything to get rid of muggle born wizards and their families.”

“So he was after families like us?”

“Yes but only partly. Mostly he was after Harry.”

“Harry? But he’s just a boy, why?”

“A long time ago,” Hermione states matter-of-factly, “someone made a prophecy that announced that Harry would be the one defeating Voldemort. Over the last few years Voldemort grew strong enough that he and his followers were able to gain more control in our world, which means that they also began to get rid of muggle born wizards and their families.”

“If you were in so much danger why didn’t you leave with us?” her father asks shaking slightly.

“I told you Harry and Ron needed me. I am, as you know, really good at magic. I was able to help a lot. But I couldn’t risk you, I couldn’t stand the thought of putting you in danger because I was off fighting a war that you had nothing to do with. I couldn’t lose you.” Hermione doesn’t realise she’s crying until her mother brushes the tears away from her cheeks. “Harry, Ron and I were able to figure out how to get rid of him forever. It took us months and in the end there was this big battle at Hogwarts and-,” she finds it harder to talk as she closes her eyes and sees the face of the fallen, Fred, Colin, Tonk, Lupin... She feels cold all over.

“Hermione?”

“Many people died during the battle, including one of Ron’s brothers,” her voice cracks and her parents gasp. “Voldemort died too, for good.”

This they knew already, Ron and her had explained some of it when they were still in Australia, but it seems like her parents are really understanding the reality of it all just now. 

“Oh honey, you were in such danger and we didn’t know!”

“I am sorry I didn’t tell you everything. I didn’t want to lie to you but you would have made me go with you and I couldn’t leave Harry and Ron. There was nothing you could have done against Voldemort, you would have been defenseless. He killed Harry’s parents, both wizards, when he was just a baby. You wouldn’t have stood a chance.””

There’s a lump the size of a fist in her throat as her parents both reach out to her and cry as she circles her arms around them.

“I’m okay now, it’s over, the war is over,” she repeats soothingly when she finds her voice again, for all three of them.

“And your scars?” her mother asks when the tears have dried, brushing the tiny mark on her neck with the tip of her fingers.

“I have severals,” Hermione shivers absentmindedly, “Magic can usually make them disappear but the ones done with dark magic can’t go away.”

“And you have some that were made with dark magic?”

“Yes.”

Her parents share a frightened look at what it means. That Hermione was close enough to danger to get hurt and have scars that magic can’t erase.

“Like this one on your neck,” her mother points gently, “and the one you’re hiding on your arm?”

She folds her arm protectively towards her and only nods. She wasn’t sure they had noticed her long sleeve clothes but apparently they did.

“Will- will you show us?” her mother pleads, “when you’re ready?”

“It’s still healing.“

”It’s okay, we are too,” her father says softly and Hermione finally believes it.

Her family is beginning to heal.


	3. August

_August_

 

Her parents find a new place for their practice. The place is a mess and needs to be repainted. She offers to do it with a switch of her wand but instead they invite Ron and her to help, _the muggle way._

She laughs more during those two days that she has in a while.

It feels good.

Her parents notice her brighter mood and can’t help but comment on it. She hugs them tightly after they do.

 

...

 

She begins to use magic a little more around them.

One morning she rushes to the kitchen after she hears her father curse loudly. Smoke fills the room as her mother opens a window to ventilate. Her father shakes an old paper and explains agitatedly that oil from the pan he was using to make eggs fell onto the burner.

“May I?” she then asks timidly, pulling her wand out.

“Su-sure,” her father nods after a silent minute when she thought the kitchen floor was going to swallow her whole, thinking that maybe they weren’t ready.

Once she’s done clearing the smoke and cleaning the burner, she looks back at them shifting her weight on her feet.

But all nervous feeling vanishes when she only finds amazement in their eyes.

 

…

 

There is a small shift that happened that morning between her parents and her. It feels like taking a big breath after being underwater for too long.

Her chest burns as she realises her tilted world is slowly shifting back in place.

It’s dizzying and magnificent.

They ask questions about magic, about what she can do and it often ends in little demonstrations. After all she only showed little of her abilities before.

She had been such a mess at Christmas her sixth year that it had taken her several days to figure it out and by the time she had, she hadn’t had enough time to show them more than casting some bluebells flames around the house. Then she had come back for the summer and Dumbledore had died and the war had been much more real. She had needed to protect them. She hadn’t been able to think of sharing mindless magic with them when all her thoughts were directed to find a way to protect them at all costs.

So now, a little over a year later, she does small tricks to show them - and to remind _herself_ \- that magic is fun, that it can be light, it can be easy.

That it’s not all wars and death.

 

…

 

Molly and Arthur come over for dinner one night. Her parents can’t go to the Burrow yet, it’s still too much for them. But having her _boyfriend’s_ parents, the people who protected her while they were away, is important to them.

She hasn’t seen her parents have such fun in a while.

She watches in awe her two worlds mend together.

She clings to Ron’s hand with happy tears in her eyes and laughter bubbling in her chest.

 

…

 

She receives her Hogwarts letter, along with a note from McGonagall appointing her as Head Girl.

The badge, that she’s wished so much to have a year ago, feels small in her hand.

Her parents tell her how proud of her they are, she doesn’t even try to hide the happy tears in her eyes.

She heads to the Burrow to tell Ron. He’s proud of her and tells her so as she shares her fears about handling the responsibilities it implies on top of her schoolwork. It hits her how much she needed Ron and Harry during her years at Hogwarts.

It will be hard to go back without them.

 

…

 

Despite their best efforts, they can’t see each other as much as they want. And August is slipping away faster than both of them want.

Ron writes her a lot of letters. And the more she writes back, the more she finds herself thinking about their time in Australia.

She misses him, misses talking to him, touching him, sleeping with him…

She tells him so, hoping he’ll read between the lines. She sure can read between the ones in his letters.

In his last one, he also almost mentions visiting Shell Cottage with his family the next day. She feels cold all over just thinking about going back and it saddens her. She writes back, asking if they could do something else instead.

She expects a letter back but instead he pops at her parent’s house unannounced. Luckily her parents are gone to their practice and she lets him in, too happy to see him coming back safe and sound from his mission.

The next day, when she tells her parents she’s going to the Burrow, they don’t seem to mind and she bids them goodbye, promising to be home by midnight.

 

…

 

One day, she figures she has to fully explain everything that happened.

Her parents genuinely inquires more about Ron each day, and it’s easy to answer them.

But when it comes to talking about everything they went through, she doesn’t know where to start.

She realises that she needed her mind to process everything that happened to her before she could talk about it.

Processing meant riding through nightmares and talking with Ron. It also meant telling the Weasley's first. Because it's easier, because they understand better no matter how much it pains her to admit it.

It helped though. Having told Ron's parents. It prepared her somehow.

So one morning, she sits her parents down on the living room couch and begins to explain.

She uses her scars to tell them stories.

She starts with the one on her sternum that they’ve never seen that summer after her fifth year. How she came close to dying and how they are still unsure what curse hit her. She explains that Ron has scars too, from that same battle. Her parents stare at her in shock. “But, you were fifteen! Where were the adults? Your teachers?”

She answers their questions, explains again the rise of Voldemort like she did when she first found them in Australia. She also reminds them that Harry has been at the center of it all, ever since he was born.

She apologizes once more for lying to them all these years, that she couldn’t turn her back on Harry and the Wizarding world, not when it felt so much like she belonged.

She grabs their hands as she talks about Dumbledore’s death and how it set everything in motion. None of them were safe anymore.

She tries to explain why she couldn’t find any other way to protect them. Her dad almost interrupts her but she wills him to let her finish. She’s afraid she won’t get to the extent of what happened to her if she lets them speak.

It may be the hardest conversation she’s ever had with them.

She moves her fingers to the cut on her throat before lifting the bandage on her forearm. The scar has remained red against her pale skin. She still recalls how it felt when the knife cut through her skin.

Her father has his hands closed in tight fists, his knuckles white against the couch and her mother stares at her arm stoically, her body rigid.  

“That happened in March,” she murmurs before clearing her throat and continuing. She finds that the more she explains the events of Malfoy Manor, less heavy she feels. And it becomes slightly easier to then describe how they escaped and their stay at Shell Cottage before everything turned to hell and the Battle of Hogwarts happened.

When she’s done, her parents have a few more questions before they hug her tight.

Hermione is exhausted but she feels lighter than she has in a long time. She doesn’t have to lie to her parents about magic or what happened to her.

After that, she notices that they are less hard on her. Hopefully, they understand better.

Maybe they’ll be okay.

 

….

 

When Ron shows up on her doorstep to take her to Diagon Alley to shop for her class furnitures, her parents seem more welcoming.  

At first, it feels good to walk down the familiar street, despite that so many things changed, so many shops have been destroyed and different devantures have taken their places. The more she notices the difference, the more uncomfortable she feels.

It doesn’t help that people stare at them more than she thought they would, despite Harry and Ginny’s warning.

She wonders how long it’ll last.

Bumping into Lavender turns out to be more pleasant than she would have thought. Though their conversation ends up touching her deeper than she anticipated and seeing the girl hide her scars, makes Hermione ponder if she should do the same despite what she told Lavender.

It’s not that she’s ashamed of her scars, far from it. She is afraid of all the questions they’ll raise and if she is ready to answer them. Telling the Weasleys and her parents about it is one thing, walking around Hogwarts for everyone to read _Mudblood_ marred on her arm is different.

Maybe that’s why Lavender was hiding her scars, because she wasn’t ready to face the questions, not because she was vain.

She thinks how lonely it’s going to be with Ron and Harry by her side. She’s gotten so used to having them around. She tells Ron so. He tries to reassure her, but in the end, she’s afraid because they are the only ones who really understand their year away and without them around she’ll be alone with her mind.

She is scared of all the memories it will bring, of the lives lost and the many times any of them almost died.

She doesn’t tell Ron she’s afraid to go back to Hogwarts.  


…

 

Her parents accept the Weasleys invitation to have dinner at the Burrow the Sunday before she leaves for Hogwarts.

When they tell her, she holds them close, instantly nervous and excited.

They arrive after three longs hours of driving, she hears Ron warn everyone and suddenly all the Weasleys are outside the house and everyone hugs her all at once. Introductions are made and she can tell her parents are a little lost. Her dad does shake Harry’s hand tightly though, and thanks him. Harry shifts on his feet as he shrugs, announcing humbly that he couldn’t have done anything without Ron and her.  

The weather is gloomy so they move inside the house. Her parents gaze at everything in wonder, inquiring about magical objects. The mood darkens for a few minutes as the Grangers ask about Mrs. Weasley’s clock, before Molly shows her mum the self knitting needles and hush her towards the kitchen to show her a family recipe. Her mum has a deer caught in the headlights look that makes Hermione laughs, but the older woman doesn’t seem apprehensive or afraid. When she turns around she catches her father patiently explaining Arthur the uses of the toaster, along with a promise to let him try theirs next time the Weasleys come over for dinner. Her parents take time to talk to Harry and Ron, both boys explain what they do every day and despite her fear for their safety, Hermione is proud of the work they do.

When they move to the dinner table, the conversation effortlessly shift to Ginny and Hermione’s return to Hogwarts. She looks at her parents laugh at one of George's jokes and a quiet warmth she hasn’t felt in a long time slips through her bones.

When dinner is done, the rain clouds that threatened to pour all evening are gone and they all move outside to enjoy the warm summer night. Bluebells flames are lit around the garden, and Hermione only detects a slight hint of apprehension in her parents eyes when the fireworks begin and an incandescent dragon head flies over them.

When her parents leave, leaving her at the Burrow until she heads back to Hogwarts on Tuesday, the tears cascade down her cheeks without warning when her father takes her in his arms. After spending the past three months together growing to understand one another and learning to talk, _really talk_ , to each other again, it is hard to say goodbye.

“I’m glad you had the Weasleys all those years,” her mum caresses her hair and doesn’t try to hide the tears in her eyes. _I’m sorry we couldn’t be what you needed_ is what Hermione also hears.

“I’m glad I have you,” she replies forcefully, staring at both her parents.

It’s still a hard uneven line to walk between both worlds, but for the first time in years, Hermione doesn’t have that dreadful feeling looming over her head telling her that she has to chose one over the other.

She feels peaceful for the first time in years.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of this particular fic, it was always intended to be Hermione's journey with her parents after Australia up to when she heads back to Hogwarts.  
> I'll be starting to post her 7th year soon hopefully. In the meantime you can read MsBinns's Ron's POV in her Reunited fic, she's ahead of me in the timeline so that gives you something to look forward to ;-)
> 
> (I can't seem to mark this story as complete, but it is!)


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